


Stress relief

by mandalora



Series: TheRisingValkyrie's modern au [2]
Category: Dishonored (Video Games)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Modern AU, Mute Corvo Attano, Translation, ikea sharks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2020-08-23
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:48:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26054470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mandalora/pseuds/mandalora
Summary: Corvo manages stress with the help of his sharks from IKEA.
Relationships: Corvo Attano/Daud
Series: TheRisingValkyrie's modern au [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1891369
Comments: 2
Kudos: 57





	Stress relief

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheRisingValkyrie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheRisingValkyrie/gifts).
  * A translation of [Антистресс](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20637500) by [TheRisingValkyrie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheRisingValkyrie/pseuds/TheRisingValkyrie). 



> (In short: Corvo is mute due to an occupational brain injury, so he can still consciously say some short words. The background knowledge about this is picked up from TV shows about doctors, so there’s no medical credibility to be found here).

“Corvo.”

Corvo does not respond. He presses himself harder into the corner of the couch, hides his face. His lips press tightly together, that’s all Daud sees with hair fallen over his face. He moves to sit closer, Corvo jerks away, sighs feverishly through his teeth, and Daud hugs him.

“Corvo, it’s okay.”

He puts his chin on top of his head, pulls him closer. Corvo gives with effort, like rusty gears.

“Corvo.”

“No.”

Daud holds his breath. Corvo’s voice sounds… wrong. Human voices don’t sound like this. He isn’t capable of speaking normally, and every sound feels like it was run through questionable effects in some program. As if slowed down, then saved in low quality and slowed down again. It’s unpleasant. Or, rather, unfamiliar.

“No,” Corvo repeats with effort. Daud feels like it’s difficult for him to even part his lips. The finishing sound gets chewed up, leaving an uncertain _nuh._

It started with them getting into a fight—less than fifteen minutes ago, now, but Daud wouldn’t even remember the cause if he were asked. And with the flow of emotions, Corvo spoke.

Well, debatably—incoherent, hurried, pronouncing words incorrectly to a point where they were completely unrecognizable.

Then he realized what he was doing. Winced. Freaked out, went silent, and tried to hide.

“It’s okay,” Daud stubbornly repeats.

Corvo tries to move away.

For a while after, Corvo refuses to get out of bed, and Emily suggests to cover him with sharks. They already have four: Emily brought two, and they bought two more. The sharks proved fantastic, Daud didn’t understand at first but it clicked when they wound up in their apartment. Usually they make up a row on the couch, but now Corvo sulks and Daud follows Emily’s advice and lays the sharks out on top of him, occasionally checking if everything is alright.

Daud hears sounds in the bedroom and quickly peeks in from the kitchen. The fact that Corvo is moving is already a good sign.

Corvo is holding one of the sharks tightly in his hands, the rest have fallen off him, and Daud comes closer to fix them back into place.

Corvo slurs something in reply, grabs the second shark and grips it tightly.

“Daud.”

Daud blinks, realizing that his name was just called. He slowly moves his eyes to Corvo, afraid to spook or abash him. Corvo is embarrassed of his own voice. He doesn’t say it, but Daud understood it just fine.

He still sounds just as wrong and strange. The vowels are uneven, Corvo drags out the “a,” the sound jerks and practically turns into a diphthong. The “u” is short, it breaks off on the last “d” that’s practically voiceless and is more like a barely audible click of the tongue against the top row of teeth.

Corvo shakes his head. He looks self-conscious, or, rather, almost as if he’s ashamed. He isn’t looking at Daud, he’s moving his lips silently, flitting his gaze along his arm.

Goosebumps creep over the back of Daud’s head.

He thinks that Corvo had a deep, beautiful voice when everything was normal. The voice shouldn’t change from such an injury, but the short accidental words were making it hard to tell.

“Come here,” Daud quietly calls. Corvo blinks, rocks his head so that hair falls on his face but still stirs compliantly, turns around to face him, letting one shark out of his hands. “Why so shy?” Daud asks softly and brushes a hand over the other’s shoulder. Corvo vaguely moves his head. He makes a sound, but at once abruptly cuts it off, probably realizing that he won’t be able to say anything. He moves his lips, doesn’t respond in any way and then bites on the tip of his thumb. It looks touching. “I’ve seen you naked, the intimacy level is already high enough, no?”

Corvo laughs, soft and brief. Then he falls silent, and his exhale tickles Daud’s clavicle.

Corvo moves his hand, thoughtfully drawing boxes on Daud’s skin; tries to show him something, then pulls away, takes his phone and rolls onto his back into the same position as before. He types out: _‘It’s hard.’_

“I know,” Daud replies, pulling a shark closer and laying it on top of him. Corvo puts his phone away and grabs onto the toy like a lifebelt. “But don’t think that that’s gonna scare me. Alright?”

Corvo tries to say “alright” out loud. It doesn’t work, but the outlines of the word are still recognizable.

“Attaboy,” Daud replies with some sense of inner satisfaction.


End file.
